The Go Between
by Crinklybrownleaves
Summary: This story is set about a month after the end of series 3. It assumes that Lucien did not go to Adelaide with Jean, and that he just let her go. So neither of them is exactly happy! Mattie tries to sort that out...
1. Chapter 1

**This story is set about a month after Jean left for Adelaide at the end of series 3. In this story, Lucien didn't go with her, he let her go without saying anything.**

 **This will have a few chapters, not sure quite how many yet!**

"Beazley residence," Mattie had not heard that familiar voice for over a month, and she could not help smiling now.

"Jean? It's Mattie." She knew her voice was a little unsteady. She had hesitated for so long to make this call, and she still was not sure it was the right thing to do.

"Mattie! How lovely to hear from you. How are you?" Then Jean paused. A long distance call rarely meant good news. "Is something wrong?"

"Charlie and I are fine, Jean, but I'm afraid Lucien isn't. He...misses you." Mattie knew this was not what she wanted to say, but how could she explain?

"You said that before I even left Ballarat, that day in the hotel. Nothing's changed, Mattie. I promised Christopher I'd move to Adelaide." Jean's voice was sympathetic but firm.

"But Lucien's not the same, he's changed a lot, Jean. I think he's depressed. He's drinking more than ever, he's angry all the time, he doesn't want to speak to any of us." Mattie thought back to the previous evening when he had shouted at Charlie for disturbing him when he was 'busy'. Busy drinking, perhaps, but Lucien certainly was not doing any work to speak of.

"Jean, he's stopped seeing patients, and Frank Carlyle has been asking Alice to fill in as police surgeon. Lucien's too unreliable. He's either drunk or he doesn't turn up." Mattie took a deep breath. "I didn't know what to do, Jean."

Jean paused to think. She had spent the last month trying not to think about Lucien, unsuccessfully. The pain of missing him was back now, clutching at her stomach as she tried to explain to Mattie.

"Mattie, he let me go. He had every chance to ask me to stay, and he didn't." The pain of that rejection, his failure to say anything to stop her going, was still fresh. "What could I do now?"

What Mattie really wanted her to do was to get back on a bus and come home, but it seemed Jean was not going to do that. At least not without a lot more persuasion.

She sighed. It was time to get to the truth, and to cut through Jean's usual reticence.

"Jean, are you in love with Lucien?"

The reply was almost a whisper, an admission of defeat. "Yes."

"Then come home. Please, Jean. He can't go on like this."

"I can't just come back, Mattie. Quite apart from my promise to Christopher, I can't just come home. It would all go back to how it was before. I'd be the housekeeper, Lucien would be out working all the time, nothing would ever be resolved, and I'm not sure I could bear that again." Her voice dipped at the last phrase, and Mattie could tell it had cost her dearly to admit that.

"So what would Lucien have to do to persuade you to come back?" Mattie laughed as she said it, but Jean knew the question was a serious one. "Give up whisky? Turn up for meals?"

"He only has to ask, Mattie. But I need more than a job as his housekeeper. I need more of him than that."

They were both silent for a moment. Then Jean said, "I'll ring tomorrow evening. If he wants to speak to me then, he can. But if not, I won't ring again. I'll have to try to forget him."


	2. Chapter 2

Mattie replaced the receiver and stood for a moment staring at the phone. She knew it was now or never. Lucien's study door was firmly shut and she hesitated before knocking. There was no reply.

She opened the door a crack and glimpsed Lucien, sitting in semi darkness, whisky glass in his hand. He turned towards her, and she thought for a moment he would erupt in anger, but then he looked away, defeated.

She moved around the desk and perched on the edge of it, taking the glass out of his hand and setting it down. His eyes met hers and she saw again that look of despair.

"I've just spoken to Jean on the phone," she said. He did not respond. "She wants to talk to you." It wasn't quite true, but she hoped Lucien would believe it.

"She's gone, Mattie. Forget about her." Lucien looked away.

"So you wouldn't want her to come home? Even if she wanted to?"

He shook his head. "We've got a housekeeper."

Mattie sighed. They were both so stubborn. "Jean's not a housekeeper. Not any more. If she came back, it would be for you."

There was just the smallest glimmer of life in his eyes at that, but then it was gone again.

"I thought she was ready, Mattie, but then she left. She chose to go. She must have known I wanted her to stay, but she went anyway."

Ready? Mattie wasn't sure what he meant, but she was finding this all very frustrating. Why had Lucien and Jean never talked about this properly? She knew why really - they were both afraid the other would reject them. But they still should have talked.

"Do you love her, Lucien?" Mattie wondered how she had come to this. She was hardly the expert on love. Yet how was it that all of Ballarat could see what he and Jean couldn't?

He nodded tightly, but said nothing.

"So will you talk to her? She's calling again tomorrow evening, Lucien." Mattie looked at him pleadingly but his face had closed down again.

"She doesn't want me, Mattie. What's the point?" And with that he hauled himself to his feet and left the room, going into his bedroom and shutting the door firmly.

Mattie sighed. Well, at least she had tried. They were both as bad as each other, she thought.

Lucien did not appear for dinner, but even Mrs Toohey had stopped commenting on his absence recently. She served Mattie and Charlie, then said goodbye and went home.

They chatted a little over dinner, but there was none of the life and spark of former days, when Lucien talked about his cases and Jean kept him in line, when they felt like a family with Blake as the head and Jean as the centre. All that had gone, and Mattie missed it, and she suspected Charlie did too.

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That night Lucien had another nightmare. There hadn't been as many recently, Mattie thought to herself as she got out of bed. The amount of whisky Lucien had been drinking seemed to have blunted their effects, so he'd not woken them for a few weeks now.

She tied her dressing gown cord and padded downstairs in bare feet.

She knocked hard on his door and called his name, but he continued to shout out, the fear in his voice very clear.

Mattie opened the door and watched him for a moment in the light spilling from the hallway. She moved into the room and shook him by the shoulder, tentatively at first, and then harder. "Lucien, wake up!" she urged him. "Wake up! It's just a bad dream."

As he started to come to, she stepped back into the shadows. She wasn't sure if he would mind her shaking him awake.

"Jean?" he murmured. "Jean, is that you?"

"No, it's Mattie. You were having a nightmare." She stepped forward and he looked at her properly. He seemed disappointed.

"Oh, I thought Jean was here, for a moment. I'm sorry, Mattie. You'd better go back to bed."

Mattie went to leave, but turned back at the door. "She's in love with you, Lucien. She would come home. You only have to ask her."

He didn't respond, and after a moment she left, shutting the door quietly behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

When Mattie arrived home from work the next afternoon, she went in search of Lucien. She wanted him sober for Jean's phone call, and that meant finding him before he settled into an evening's serious drinking.

It quickly became clear he was not anywhere in the house or garden, unless he was in his bedroom. He wasn't answering her knock at his door. She opened it and peeped in; he wasn't in there either.

A month ago she would have assumed he was out on a house call, or at the police station, but he had done so little work recently that that didn't seem likely now. Mattie sat restlessly in the living room, one ear listening for his return, finding it hard to settle to her book.

Mrs Toohey arrived to cook dinner, and then Charlie came home, but neither of them had seen Lucien, and Charlie said there were no current cases he might be out on. They ate another meal without him and Mattie worried about how much longer he could go on like this.

Irritated that Lucien had gone out to avoid Jean's call, Mattie washed up after their meal, and Charlie dried the dishes.

"Jean's going to ring this evening," she said, to break the silence. "Do you want to speak to her?"

Charlie looked at her curiously. "Have you told her about Lucien?" She nodded, biting her lower lip.

"Maybe I shouldn't have. Now he's avoiding her. Or he's at the club, drinking." Mattie sighed. She should never have got involved with their problems, she thought.

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Jean had spent the afternoon in a state of nervous excitement. This evening's call was really their last chance; she wouldn't humiliate herself by going back to Lucien's house uninvited.

Even Ruby had noticed Jean seemed preoccupied, but she didn't ask her about it.

Playing with Amelia seemed to be the one thing that kept her from fretting, so Ruby left her with the baby and tackled the washing herself, a reversal of their usual roles. When Christopher came home, Jean was out for a walk with the baby in the pram.

His thoughts on the matter were to the point. "It'll be something to do with Lucien Blake. I knew he'd end up by hurting her. You should have seen them, Ruby, that evening in Ballarat. He had his hands all over her. But she's not mentioned him since she moved here, and I don't think he's phoned or written to her."

"Someone phoned her yesterday, long distance, but I don't know who it was," Ruby said thoughtfully. They exchanged a knowing look.

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After a near-silent dinner, Jean slipped into the hall, hoping not to be noticed. She sat on the stairs, looking at the phone, putting off the moment. Eventually she sighed to herself, and reached out for it, and dialled the familiar number with the phone balanced on her knee.

Rather to her surprise, Charlie answered, and they had a few minutes awkward small talk before he passed the phone to Mattie.

"Jean, I don't know where Lucien is. I haven't seen him at all today; I think he must have gone to the club."

Jean's heart sank. "Did you tell him I was going to phone this evening?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"Yes. I talked to him yesterday evening. I'm sorry. He knew you were intending to ring, but I'm sure he's just forgotten..." Mattie realised that what she had said was ridiculous, but she was trying to soften the blow for Jean.

Jean was not a woman to avoid a harsh truth. "No, Mattie, he just doesn't want to talk to me." She could feel tears building.

"Jean, he does love you." Even to Mattie, it sounded hollow.

"Maybe, in his own way. But not enough apparently. Mattie, I know you've tried, and thank you for that, but it's over. I can't keep on hoping he'll change." Jean was keen now to end the phone call, so she just sent her love to Mattie and said goodbye.

She hung up, and then stood up decisively, wiping away a stray tear with her hand. Fixing a smile on her face, she went back into the small front room of Christopher and Ruby's house. Perhaps it was time she moved into a flat of her own. Now she knew she would be staying in Adelaide for the long term, it would be better to have her own place, she reasoned to herself.

She made some tea for them all, then Ruby went upstairs to put Amelia to bed, and Christopher went into the garden to do some weeding, making the most of the last of the daylight.

Jean stood at the open back door for some time, watching him and reminding herself of all she had: two healthy sons, a daughter in law, a gorgeous granddaughter she was lucky enough to see every day. People she loved and who loved her. That would have to be enough for her.


	4. Chapter 4

Jean was just considering going out into the garden to help Christopher, when there was a knock at the door.

"I'll get it!" she called out, and a moment later she opened the door, expecting perhaps to find one of the neighbours there.

At the sight of Lucien on the doorstep she opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Her first, rather odd, thought was that he looked unkempt. His suit was creased, and his shirt was yesterday's, if not older. His beard needed trimming and he had a rather ill, grey look about him.

Without thinking about it, she stood aside so he could come into the hall, and she took his hat from him. They stood together in silence while Jean fingered his hat, until she remembered she ought to say something.

"Would you like some tea?" Her voice sounded distant, even to herself.

Lucien nodded, and they went through to the kitchen. Jean pointed at one of the kitchen chairs and he sat down heavily in it, eyeing Jean warily. She seemed different. If he had expected a warmer welcome, he would be disappointed, it seemed. She certainly was not just going to fall into his arms.

"Are you well, Jean?" he asked tentatively, as she passed him his cup of tea. How many times had she done that for him, he wondered?

She made eye contact with him for the first time. "Better than you are, I think. Why are you here, Lucien?"

He looked down at his tea and stirred it slowly. "I wanted to talk to you."

"You could have done that on the phone this evening, instead of worrying Mattie by disappearing." And making me think you didn't care about me at all, she could have added, but she resisted. She was unreasonably annoyed that he had arrived just when she had finally given up on him.

" I needed to see you as well, and..." he stopped talking as Christopher strode back into the kitchen.

"Who was it, Mum?" he called out as he came in, then noticed Blake sitting at the table.

He bit back the sarcastic comment that first came to mind. "Doctor..." he said, warily, and nodded in greeting.

Neither of them seemed at all happy to see him, Lucien thought, and for the first time he realised that his failure to speak to Jean a month earlier had affected more than just the two of them.

He was in Christopher's bad books now, and he regretted that. Christopher was only looking out for his mum, and Lucien had hurt her. He could hardly now expect a welcome from the younger man.

And he'd been unfair to Charlie, Mattie, and even Mrs Toohey, taking out his regret and ill temper on them. He sighed. But he was mostly concerned by Jean's reaction. She seemed almost indifferent to him.

"Shall we go in the garden, Lucien?" Jean asked. She knew they couldn't have any sort of conversation with Christopher or Ruby within earshot, and she did actually want to know what he had come to say.

Once outside, Jean headed for a rather uncomfortable-looking bench at the end of the garden, and they sat side by side looking over the vegetable patch and back at the house. The light was fading and there was a slight chill in the air.

"So what did you want to say, Lucien?" Jean said quietly. She didn't look at him, but continued to stare out over the garden.

He had spent most of the bus journey wondering what to say to her, but none of that seemed useful now. He was at a loss to know where to start.

"I've missed you, Jean. Nothing seems to matter when you aren't there. I've been hoping you would agree to come back with me." It sounded inadequate even to him, and Jean frowned at the tomato plants. He tried again.

"I thought I shouldn't stand in your way when you said you were going to Adelaide. I thought you knew how I felt about you. I'm sorry, Jean."

She didn't reply, or even look at him, but she did reach out and take his hand, curling her fingers around his. Eventually she spoke.

"I wanted you to say something. I needed a reason to stay with you, and you didn't give me one. Christopher asked me to come here, but you didn't ask me to stay." There was more she wanted to say but her voice was wobbling and she did not want to cry.

"Are you happy here?" he asked. She shook her head.

"I'm thankful for what I have, but I want more than this." For the first time since they came outside, she looked at him properly, and he smiled at her.

"Tell me what you want, Jean, and if I can, I'll give it to you." He touched her face with his fingertips, running them lightly down her cheek.

"I want...you," she whispered.


	5. Chapter 5

"That's all I want from you - just you," Jean continued, and she finally smiled at him, that lovely, gentle smile he had missed so much.

"Well, that's easy enough!" Lucien began, but Jean cut him off, raising her hand to stop him saying more.

"No, it's not easy, Lucien. You let me leave without saying anything; how did you think I would know what you intended? I still wouldn't, if it wasn't for Mattie. I need you to tell me, not expect me to guess." As Lucien looked at her closely, he could see the hurt in her eyes.

"Jean, I'm sorry. I thought you knew how much I care for you. But you said you weren't ready, and I didn't want to rush you. And then when you said you were leaving, I thought that was what you wanted, and I would be selfish to stop you."

They sat quietly for a moment while Jean thought about that, still hand in hand. Lucien knew what he had said was crucial; if he failed to convince her now, he would not have another chance.

"So why did you change your mind? Why did you come here today?" She needed to hear it from him.

"Mattie made me see it. She asked me if I love you, and I do, of course. And then she said...she said you love me too. Was she right?"

Jean nodded. "Yes, she's right." Lucien leaned nearer and kissed her gently on the lips. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the softness of her lips and the faint scent of her hair. He moved so slowly, waiting for her to respond, but just as she started to kiss him in return, the kitchen door flew open and Christopher's voice called out.

"Mum! We're just going to bed. I'll leave the door unlocked for you." He shut the door just as suddenly, and Jean started to giggle. Lucien couldn't remember hearing her laugh like that before, high pitched and carefree.

"Do you think he saw us?" she asked, grinning at Lucien.

"Maybe, but I don't mind him knowing that I love you, do you?" Jean stared at him for a moment. That was twice in two minutes he had said he loved her. Something really had changed in him.

She shivered and Lucien put his arm round her shoulders, pulling her a little closer to keep her warm. It was now quite dark.

Jean leaned into him and kissed his cheek, touching his beard with her fingers and ruffling it. She had always wanted to do that, and now she smiled to herself at the thought that this was just the start.

"We should go inside," she said. "I'll make up a bed on the couch for you for tonight."

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 **In this chapter Coachsone got her wish! There has been some discussion on Tumblr about if, when and how Lucien might finally tell Jean he loves her. Here he did t indirectly - I don't know if that counts! But this story is AU anyway, so it doesn't really matter.**


	6. Chapter 6

They both stared at the blankets and cushion on the couch. There was no way Lucien would ever be able to sleep there properly, it was far too short.

"I'll sleep here, and you can have my bed," Jean suggested. He was reluctant to turn her out of her bed, but it was late, and there weren't many options, so he accepted, and showed his gratitude with another soft kiss.

This time he lingered over it, teasing her lip with his tongue until she moved closer, linking her hands behind his neck. The misery of his life in Ballarat seemed very far away, and he was sure in his own mind now that she would be coming home with him.

Ten minutes later he was in Jean's bedroom, and as he looked round he saw surprisingly few personal touches. This was very different to the room she had made in his house, and he acknowledged to himself that she did not really see this box room in her son's house as any sort of home. Had she just been waiting for him to come and get her?

Meanwhile Jean lay curled up on the couch, with too much on her mind to let her sleep. After a month of aching disappointment and the pain of the missed phone call, she had had an evening of renewed hope, but could she really just pack her bags and leave Adelaide on the strength of a couple of kisses and an apology? Surprisingly, she thought she could, he was worth risking her heart for.

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Jean slept rather fitfully on the uncomfortable settee, and woke finally while it was still dark. She was chilled and stiff, and got up to stretch her limbs, wrapping one of the blankets around her. For a moment she considered putting the kettle on to make herself some tea, but then she had a better idea.

Tiptoeing up the stairs so as not to wake anyone, she then slowly opened her bedroom door and caught sight of Lucien asleep on his back in her bed. She smiled at the thought of him sleeping where she had slept, but she planned to improve on that. She dropped her blanket on the chair.

Jean lifted up the edge of the bed covers and slid in next to him. It was a single bed and distinctly snug for two, but she managed by lying on her side, on top of his out flung arm.

Lucien stirred in his sleep, half aware she was there but still dreaming. "Jean?" he murmured in surprise, eyes still closed. "Mmm," she replied, "go back to sleep."

He moved his arm a little to accommodate her and let his hand rest on her back, and within a few minutes they were both asleep again.

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They were woken later by Amelia crying, and as they lay together, both their heads on one pillow, Lucien and Jean realised they had a problem. They could hear Christopher and Ruby talking downstairs in the kitchen, and it must now be obvious to the young couple that no one was sleeping on the couch.

Jean turned her head and looked Lucien in the eye. "I'll go and talk to them," she whispered. "You go and get dressed." Despite her words, neither of them moved. She half closed her eyes, breathed in his very masculine scent, and rubbed her cheek gently against his beard.

Eventually she stirred and got up, put on her dressing gown, and went to face her son. On the way, she went into Amelia's room and picked up the baby, who was grizzling in her cot. Amelia grinned toothlessly at her and Jean fussed over her. "Now we'll go and see what Daddy has to say to me, shall we?"

As Jean went into the kitchen, Ruby turned to the sink and busied herself with some washing up, not wanting to get involved. Christopher sighed and looked at his mother sadly.

"He didn't last long on the settee, then?" He looked disappointed in her.

"I was the one on the settee, Christopher, so it was me that didn't last long. And I don't have to justify that to you." Jean sounded harsher than she intended, and she looked away, embarrassed.

"I know you don't, Mum. But you didn't hear from him for weeks, then he turns up and within a few hours you're sleeping with him." Ruby shifted awkwardly at the sink; she really didn't want to hear this. She took Amelia from Jean's arms and left the kitchen, shutting the door behind her.

"I just don't want you to get hurt, Mum."

"When you love someone, getting hurt is inevitable. And we shared a bed, that's all. When Lucien comes downstairs, I hope you'll at least be polite to him." Jean touched her son on the arm and gave him a small smile, and he nodded.

"How long is he staying?" Christopher asked, neutrally.

"I think we'll be leaving today," she replied, and Christopher did his best to cover his surprise.

"You're going with him?" But even as he asked he knew the answer. His mother had a self-assurance about her today that was new. She nodded, and went upstairs to get dressed.


	7. Chapter 7

Their departure had been awkward, to say the least.

Christopher had been civil to Blake over breakfast, but no more, and Jean then had to leave them alone together while she went to pack. Her whole life in Adelaide fitted back into the two cases she had brought with her, and it didn't take her long. She barely glanced around the little room before leaving it.

While they waited for the taxi to take them to the station, Jean played with the baby and chatted to Ruby. She was genuinely sad to be leaving behind this little girl she had grown so fond of, but she couldn't help reflecting that she had not done so well in her relationship with either of her sons. And now she was walking away, putting Lucien above her family, yet she would have said that family was everything to her.

In the end they said goodbye in haste, aware of the car now waiting outside. Lucien took her cases out to give her a moment with Christopher. He sighed, and kissed her cheek. "I hope it goes well for you both, Mum. But you'll always have a home here if you want it." She kissed him back and thanked him, and hurried out to meet Lucien.

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They went home by train. It was quicker and easier, and they managed to find a quiet carriage where they could hold hands and talk privately.

"We should have phoned Mattie. She'll think you are still missing, and she's probably worried." Jean held his hand in both of hers, and studied his face carefully. He already looked better than he had yesterday - less grey and tired - but she thought he had got thinner in the last month.

"We'll be home soon enough," Lucien replied. For the first time he started to think about the future, beyond his simple aim of getting Jean to come home with him again. "What are we going to say to her?"

Jean thought for a while, and Lucien wondered if she had heard him. Then, "I think we should tell Mattie and Charlie the truth, that we are..." she wasn't sure how to express what she meant.

"Courting," Lucien said, with a grin.

"Yes, courting, then." Jean continued. "They live with us, they're going to notice, and anyway, we have Mattie to thank for this. But maybe we shouldn't say too much to everyone else, not if I'm to continue living in your house."

"Our house," he corrected her. "It's your home too." Jean started to object but thought better of it. Even if it wasn't strictly true, she knew he was trying to reassure her and make her feel more secure.

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They arrived home before Mattie got home from work, and so she walked into the kitchen unaware of what she would find there. Seeing Jean standing at the stove, waiting for the kettle to boil, and Lucien leaning back in his chair watching her, for a moment Mattie thought she had stepped back in time a month or two.

This was what she had missed. She could see at a glance that Lucien looked better than he had for weeks, but it was Jean she turned to first, hugging her and squealing her name.

"Jean! You're back! When...?"

Jean smiled at her broadly. "We've been home for a couple of hours. It's so good to see you! And thank you." This last phrase she said quietly, but Mattie could tell she meant it.

"Yes, we should be thanking our go between." Lucien looked at her almost in reproof, and she wondered if he was angry that she had interfered, but then he smiled and she realised he was teasing her.

"So...?" Mattie said, hoping they would tell her more. "Did you go to Adelaide, Lucien?"

"Yes, and Jean's agreed to let me court her."

Jean seemed rather embarrassed by this conversation, and suddenly became very interested in the tea she was making.

"Well, that's lovely news! Congratulations!" Mattie beamed at them.

"We're telling you and Charlie but no one else at the moment," Jean added.

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At dinner that evening, cooked by Mrs Toohey but served by Jean, they told Mattie and Charlie a little about what had happened between them, and about Jean's decision to come home.

Mattie asked finally, "Won't you miss seeing your family every day? It must have been lovely seeing Amelia every day."

Jean looked thoughtful. "I will miss them, I'm sure, but I have family here too." She gestured at the four of them seated round the table, and Mattie knew she was not the only one to have missed these meals with her second family.

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Charlie strode into the police station the following morning and grinned at Frank Carlyle.

"You should be alright to ring Dr Blake from now on, if you need a police surgeon."

Frank looked surprised. His experiences of Lucien so far had been of an irritable and unreliable character, usually drunk. He knew Charlie lived with him, but was curious as to why he would now be defending him.

"Has he got his act together now? " he asked. "He's no use to us unless he has."

Charlie smiled. "Jean's back." He offered no further explanation.

Frank looked puzzled. "Who's Jean? His wife?" Jean had left for Adelaide before Frank arrived.

"His housekeeper," Charlie said. "But she'll sort him out. He'll be fine now she's home."

"Does she work miracles then?" Frank found it hard to believe any housekeeper could do that.

"I think maybe she does," Charlie nodded in agreement. "You should meet her. She's a remarkable woman."

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 **Thank you for your reviews and messages, which I've really appreciated. There may be a teeny epilogue to this story, if I can finish it to my satisfaction. At the moment it's being awkward and refusing to be written. xx**


	8. Chapter 8

**_It's funny, isn't it? Your life can turn in a single moment, on a single decision. S3E1_**

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The light was fading rapidly, but they stayed out, sitting on the bench in their garden, reluctant to go indoors just yet.

"I'm glad you came to get me," she said quietly.

Lucien looked at her curiously. "What made you think about that?" It seemed longer ago to him than just the three months that had gone by. So much had happened to them since, nearly all of it good.

"This," she replied, indicating the garden and the house beyond. "It reminded me of that evening in Adelaide. You took a risk in coming, and it was the right thing to do."

"Mattie told me you loved me, and that changed everything, in one moment." He trailed his fingers down her neck and under the edge of her blouse. "We are both risk takers, aren't we, Jean?"

Jean opened her mouth to object, but said nothing. She didn't really see herself that way, but she had to admit she liked a bit of adventure, and wasn't that part of what she loved about life with Lucien?

"You took a risk that night, coming to bed with me, don't you think?" he asked. He'd often wondered why she had done that. They hadn't shared a bed since, and here in Ballarat it seemed almost unthinkable that they had then.

"I had to be sure," she murmured. "If I was going to move back here so suddenly, I had to be sure that what I felt was real." She looked at him sideways and smiled. "And it was, I'm glad to say."

She kissed him slowly, running her fingers over the back of his neck, in the curls of his hair.

Lucien broke the kiss and looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. "Perhaps it's time for you to take another risk, Jean. Shall we get married? Will you marry me?" There was a pause; Jean hadn't expected that.

"Yes, of course I will," she said, suddenly finding her voice again, and she laughed before adding, "but if I need to be really sure..."

"I'll leave my bedroom door ajar tonight, shall I?" Lucien grinned at her, and she nodded as her arms went round him.


End file.
